A Silly Little Fear
by gemmawolf
Summary: America hears a scream from the hotel room above his own, and goes to the rescue as the willing hero, only to discover that a lot of fuss is being made about nothing. One-shot. America's POV. A little bit of fluff, I guess. Rated T for America's general attitude.


I wrote this in less than an hour, but I'm still really happy with it. I've never been very good at writing short stories; usually they drag on chapter after chapter, so I'm pleased that I managed to get an idea - spawned from an experience I had this morning - transformed into a finished piece in just one day!

I've not had much practice at writing in first person, so I hope America is in character.

* * *

The scream made me jump so hard that I spilled my coffee.

I swore as the hot drink burned me through my shirt, but then my mind switched to the more important fact: a girl had screamed. _She must be in trouble!_ I thought, putting my coffee aside and grabbing my treasured jacket as I switched to Hero Mode; the sound had come from the room above my own, but I wanted my three-in-one good luck charm, good looking and favourite garment with me even if I wasn't going outside. I mean, I might have been able to score, right?

If you're wondering why I was in a hotel to begin with, I had arrived from my home just that morning for the World Meeting with the other nations the following day (yes, you are talking to the United States of Awesome). Considering that there are over 150 of us countries, there's no way that all of us could stay in the host's pad, so we usually opt for a nearby hotel. This one was so big that it appeared empty – I was trying not to think about that creepy movie at the time – and I hadn't spoken to anyone since the receptionist had handed me my keycard with a dazzling smile.

Damn...

Anyway, there I was standing tall and proud in my bomber jacket outside the hotel room of a young lady who was vulnerable to both a terrifying danger and my charms. But, and let me stress this to you, the person who answered the door was **not** who I was expecting at all:

"Yes?" England snapped at me, his emerald eyes glaring at me.

I've never been very good at maths, which is why I didn't put two and two together at first. I just grinned. "Dude, I could have sworn I heard a chick squealing up here! I thought she needed a hero."

His furry brows frowned at me, and I could only smile wider, determined to dye them different colours the next time he was drunk. What? He's done worse things to me! You must have heard the legendary stories about his nights out. "Well, you were mistaken- I didn't say you could come in!"

I had barged in by that point, looking around his identical apartment: large, with a miniature kitchen and a bedroom and bathroom in separate rooms. "Aw, come on Iggy, I know you! Your cheap bedroom tricks would make anyone shout for help. You've got a girl in here haven't you?"

"Of course not! America, would you just get out? I have to unpack!"

I spotted only one closed door, the one which lead to the bathroom. "Is this where you're hiding her, you sick pervert?" I asked jokingly, reaching for the handle. Suddenly I was tackled to the floor.

"**Don't! You'll let it out!"** he shrieked. I instantly recognised the high-pitched tone.

"Oh my God," I snickered, starting to shake with laughter even as he pinned me to the floor. "_You_ screamed? What the hell was she doing to you, man?"

"There isn't a girl in here, you daft git!" he hissed, clamping a hand over my mouth so that I couldn't talk _or_ breathe – thanks a lot, Iggy.

"Fmm hwwm?"

It was weird seeing all the fight go out of his eyes as he got off me and sat next to me on the floor, knees tucked up to his chin. I guess I had at least succeeded with the part of my plan that involved someone else being totally vulnerable. I sat up, honestly interested in what could _possibly_ make him squeal like a teenage girl.

He sighed. "A spider... Don't you **dare**," he added as I tried to contain another fit of laughter. _A spider? Oh God, he really is a girl! Ow!_ He had punched me in the stomach; so much for the vulnerability.

"It was huge! And the way it... moved. Urgh!" He shuddered as I clutched my gut, on my back once more.

I guess I was feeling generous and kind of mature that day, since I remember thinking: _Come on, America, you're scared of ghosts and anything to do with them. Did you really think that England didn't have a silly little fear as well?_

"Well, I came up here ready to be a hero, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do," I said, looking up at him with a smile. He brightened immediately and helped me up, but them chickened out again.

"All right, but don't let it out of containment until you're **sure** you've got it, and don't kill it because I don't want to be staring at spider-guts when I'm in there and for God's sake make sure that it can't get back in once you've got rid of it," he babbled, backing up towards his bedroom door, opening it and stepping inside. Just before he let me do the deed, he made sure to add: "Oh, and if you come anywhere near me saying you've got it on you – joking or not – I'll kill you."

Somehow I knew that he was deadly serious.

The door slammed shut and I braced myself for the monstrosity that waited for me in the small bathroom. I'm not scared of spiders or bugs or anything gross in general, but even though I loved getting messy outdoors when I was a kid I try to avoid them now. Though I didn't have much of a choice. _Still, all heroes have to make sacrifices every now and again!_ I was prepared to have a giant ninja spider darting all over me if it meant that Iggy could sleep properly that night.

After letting the heavy door shut behind me it took me a few seconds to spot the offender, and I was almost disappointed.

He was tar black, and about the size of a quarter including the legs, and lay in wait at one end of the bath. I rolled up my sleeves, took a deep breath and lunged for him. "Bullseye!" I cried triumphantly, trapping him in my cupped hands and reaching for the window and pushing at it with my forearm.

But it was locked.

And the tickling sensation on my palms was distractingly icky. Somehow, I opened the door and looked around for a way of disposing it. I nearly dropped the thing when England screamed behind me and slammed his door shut again; clearly he was so brave and manly that he could risk a peek.

"Ew ew ew ew ew **ew**!" I said to myself, gradually louder and louder as I raced to an open window in the living area. As fast as I could I flung my hands out of it, ignoring the fact that even though I hadn't squashed the infiltrator I was still killing him by dropping him from a seven-storey floor. Oh well.

Just to be certain, I shut the window and locked it, then made my way back to England's room. I knocked.

"Is it gone?" came the reply. Man, if you could have heard how timid he sounded you would laugh so hard!

"Yeah, it's gone."

"You're sure?"

"Positive." That had to have done it. He knows I'm serious when I use fancy words.

"... Have you washed your hands?"

"Christ, Iggy, it's just a flaming spider!" I sighed, quickly getting bored with his whining.

"Wash your damn hands!"

Irritated, I went back into the bathroom and washed them, a little up my arms too, just to be certain. I used up a lot of the liquid soap in spite, but as I was washing the bubbles off I felt a pair of skinny arms squeezing me around the chest.

I looked over my shoulder, though looking back I don't know who else it could have been. I found England clinging to me from behind, his face buried in my jacket. "Thank you," he murmured, his eyes refusing to meet my own.

Without bothering to dry my hands I hugged his arms close to my body. "You're welcome."

* * *

Fluffy? I don't know, I'm not good with lovey-dovey stuff, though I try.

Yes, the experience I had this morning was a spider that leaped out at me when I was in the garage. I screamed - which scared the dog - and ran back inside the house. And lo! a fic was born! (Have I used that sentence before?)

If you're wondering about me updating my other story, I'm working on it. I'm just a bit blocked right now for direction in it, but it's coming along piece by piece.

Reviews are appreciated, but I know it's short so no pressure. This was written to get an idea out of my head rather to be good at writing anyway.

Cheers!


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